Dandelion Fire Read Online Free Page A

…”
    Frank sighed. “Ease up now. He's leaving in two weeks. I'll get it done.”
    Henry vaguely listened to his aunt and uncle descend the attic stairs, and his mind rolled back in his head, searching for dreamlessness, where there could be no pain.
    Instead, his doors opened and new voices entered.
    “Henry.” Richard's voice was just as pompous when you couldn't see him. “If you can hear me, I'm very sorry for your pain.”
    “Get out of the way, Richard,” Anastasia said. “I want to see his hand.”
    Henry's hand was lifted, a bandage slid away, and Anastasia caught her breath. “That looks like it hurts. Did you see the lightning come out, Henrietta? He must have looked like a wizard.”
    “He wasn't struck by lightning.” Henrietta's voice was flat. “I saw it. The lightning was just as close to both of us, and I'm fine.”
    “Henrietta.” Penelope's voice was soothing. “I think he has to have been struck. Maybe just by a little side current, but something did that to his hand.”
    Henrietta sniffed. “I would have seen it. If a bolt of lightning had shot out of his hand, I think I would have noticed.”
    “I think you're jealous,” Anastasia said. “You've always wanted to get struck by lightning, or sucked up by a tornado or something.”
    “I think we should leave him,” Penelope said.
    “I think you should leave him, too,” Henrietta snorted.
    “I'd like to stay with him,” Richard said. “I could sleep on the floor in here tonight.”
    “Get out, Richard. Right now. You too, Anastasia. Bye-bye, Penny.”
    The doors clicked shut, and Henry felt Henrietta sit down on the bed beside him.
    She sighed. “Are you faking, Henry?”
    Henry swallowed and tried to lick his lips. Histongue felt like it belonged to someone else, someone much larger than he was.
    Before he could say anything, two thumbs pressed down on his eyelids and pried them back. Light and air, both made of pain, funneled into his eyes.
    “Ow!” He tried to sit up, but only made it partway. Henrietta still held his eyes open. He swung at her with his left arm, and she let go and slid away.
    “You were faking,” she said quietly. “I'm glad. I was getting worried.”
    “I wasn't faking anything,” Henry managed. His tongue was tripping over his teeth. He kept his burning eyes open, and Henrietta slowly slid into focus.
    “You were pretending to be asleep.”
    “No,” Henry said. “My eyes hurt.”
    Henrietta leaned back toward him and whispered, “Listen. It's okay. Everyone thinks you've been struck by lightning. Mom won't even be kind of suspicious. We can explore the cupboards tonight.”
    Henry collapsed back onto his bed and shook his head.
    “It's okay,” Henrietta said. “I'll let you rest, and I'll come wake you in a couple hours when everyone else is asleep. I've got Grandfather's key, you have all the combinations in the journal; we should get started. Two weeks will go fast.”
    Henry shook his head again and dropped his arm across his eyes.
    “If they think you're really sick for too long, they'll probably send you back to Boston sooner.”
    “I'm not faking,” Henry said. “Go. Please.”
    Henrietta stood slowly and tucked her hair behind her ears. Henry looked at her from beneath his arm.
    “You're really hurt?” she asked.
    Henry nodded.
    “Then I'm sorry,” she said, and turned to leave the room.
    Henry shut his eyes, but they still burned. He tried to breathe slowly and drift away, but his little room oppressed him. Everyone had gone, but the heat of their breath and chatter remained.
    With a sudden burst of resolution, Henry rocked and levered himself up. His joints burned like they were full of salt, and his vision dimmed as the blood left his head. For a moment, he sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for his dizziness to settle. When it did, he braced his hands on his knees and groaned as he straightened. After finding his balance, he slid carefully to the foot of his bed.
    Henrietta